


Hot Cocoa

by Arsenic



Series: Discipline and Punish [58]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-10
Updated: 2007-12-10
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19030201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: Frank sometimes ventures out on his own.





	Hot Cocoa

Gabe managed to get Frank in as a line cook in a decent restaurant pretty quickly. The kitchen staff was nice enough, and the conditions weren't disgusting or anything, but he was stuck on dinner to closing which meant he pretty much never saw Mikey and being back in a kitchen reminded him of prison. All in all, even if Frank hadn't had a BA which he'd actually worked his ass off to get, the situation would not have been ideal. As it was, the situation was outright depressing, but Frank was trying not to say anything, because hey, technically Mikey still worked as a janitor.

Frank would work from four to midnight, get home around one--the buses were a little unreliable at that time of night, and the restaurant wasn't all that close to begin with--and crash with Mikey until he got up at around seven. Frank got up with Mikey, since that was pretty much his only chance to see him on the days neither of them had off. Between the center and the hospital, Mikey generally only had one day off a week, and that was if nothing special was going on, which it usually was. Frank had the normal two, which was a little more helpful, if not a lot.

When Mikey headed out at around 7:30, Frank would get to looking for jobs and then spend the rest of his day interviewing hopelessly for something like a receptionist or secretary job at a business, any kind of business. He went as far as to wear a turtleneck to some of the interviews, but one look at what he'd been doing for the past five years and the interviewer became skittish. More often than not, Frank had started standing at that point, thanking the person for his or her time, and leaving. He could be applying for other jobs in the time that he would waste on sitting there.

In his third week of trying--his fourth week of being out--Frank was back at the apartment after one of those interview staring at a list of jobs that all sounded the same, every single last one. His gaze wandered to the fridge of its own accord. There was a list there of emergency contact numbers and important addresses as well as everybody's schedules. Mikey had put it up for Tommy in his first week out and it had just stayed, small alterations being made as necessary. It didn't even matter that they all had cell phones, were in fact all on Frank's mom's family plan, so that they wouldn't use up minutes calling her or each other.

The center's address was at the top and without even really meaning to, Frank found himself looking up the bus route online. It was a pretty straight shot. He grabbed his coat and his wallet--checking quickly for his bus pass--stuffed his phone in his pocket, and headed out. He hadn't let gangs of roving psychopaths keep him from spending time with Mikey. Mikey's friends couldn't possibly be _that_ much scarier. Frank was fairly sure, anyway.

 

*

Frank walked into the center and stamped his feet several times. It was about a ten minute walk from the nearest bus stop, and he was feeling a little frozen from the inside out. February was evidently feeling the need to be a bit hardcore this year. A long, semi-ethereal looking guy who was hanging pink and white paper flowers around the lobby area looked down from his perch on a ladder and asked, "Can I help you?"

Frank had had drawings of all these people, and years to study them. He asked, "Ryan?"

Ryan frowned slightly. "Do I know you?"

Frank was about to answer when a second guy walked out in the foyer. He was carrying fliers and already starting to talk to Ryan. "Hey, Ry-- Oh, hi, you must be Frank."

Frank blinked and looked carefully. This guy was shorter than Ryan, Frank could tell even without them standing next to each other. He had an open smile and a fairly soft demeanor all around. Frank tried, "Jon?"

Ryan all but fell from the ladder. Jon helped him to straighten out once he was on the ground. He asked, " _Mikey's_ Frank?"

"Did I hear the word Frank?" Mikey asked, sauntering into the room with a clipboard and a preoccupied look.

Frank said, "Hi," and Mikey looked up, lighting up before his gaze had even actually registered what his ears had to be telling him. And okay, it was possible that Frank had sort of thought Mikey was ashamed to introduce his murderer boyfriend to his friends, given that he'd never yet asked him to the center, but clearly there had been something else going on that Frank just hadn't understood. He would ask later, maybe.

Mikey said, "Hi. What are you--" Then he shook his head. "Hi."

Frank grinned back at him. "So, this is Ryan and Jon?"

"Oh," Mikey said, "right. Yeah, these two are Ryan and Jon. Ryan's engaged in a last ditch attempt to make us festive for Valentine's Day."

"It got eaten by Black and Women's History month," Ryan said, clearly disgruntled. "Fucking Spencer."

Mikey petted him soothingly. "Jon's trying to get the word out for the poetry slam we're running two Sundays from now."

"Ryan's gonna read," Jon told Frank, as if Frank knew that Ryan wrote poetry.

"Really?" Mikey asked.

"No." Ryan glowered at Jon.

"Well, Ryan's gonna make Brendon read." Jon seemed fairly oblivious to the wrath he'd just called down upon himself. Ryan, however, was now looking thoughtful. Jon stepped forward and held out his hand. When Frank took it he smiled and said, "Welcome. It's awesome to finally meet you."

Despite everything Frank had learned from the Bob-vine, Jon was so fucking genuine it was hard not to believe him. Frank nodded. "You too. I've heard a lot. Thanks for saving my boyfriend's life. I'm yours, should you need a second in a quest, or something."

"How about someone to help me go out there and flier?"

"Or that," Frank agreed.

"Wow," Ryan said, "you totally love Mikey as much as we do."

Frank would have been offended, except Ryan looked so relieved that Frank just couldn't find it in himself. He said, "More, Ryan Ross," and jogged off to catch up to Jon, who could walk surprisingly fast for such a small person.

 

*

When they were both more ice than human, Jon took Frank back to the church, in the back way through the soup kitchen. There was a woman there with hair that couldn't quite be contained in a net and a laugh that made Frank warm up a little even before Jon said, "Please Miss Greta, please may we have something hot to drink?"

Frank tilted his head. _This_ was Vicky's Greta? Yeah, he was willing to admit he wouldn't have called that. Greta said, "Introduce me to your friend and I will go so far as to make you peppermint hot chocolate, Jon Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt."

"Bad deal for you, since I was already gonna. Greta Salpeter, Frank Iero, Frank, Greta."

Frank shook the hand she held out, but then brought it to his lips for a kiss. Greta had fed Mikey. She was way up high on the list of people Frank would take a bullet for. She said, "Frank Iero. Frank Frank, right?"

Frank nodded. She said, "Two hot chocolates, coming right up."

"Three," Jon called. "Sit with us, pretty lady."

Greta asked, "Whatever would Matt say?"

Jon said, "He'd agree with me." Next to him, Frank nodded.

 

*

Frank was halfway through the boat of hot chocolate Greta had made him when the guy who had made Mikey laugh in Tommy's picture came skipping--literally skipping--into the kitchen. Greta called, "Slow down before you knock something over and I have to call the parademics."

"Greta! Greta!" the speedster said, "Did you hear who--" just then he came around a hanging pot and noticed Jon and Frank sitting there. "Oh, um, hi."

Greta and Jon both snickered. Frank said, "Hi, Brendon."

Brendon said, "Did you know you're at the center today?"

"I'd mentioned it to myself," Frank told him. "Would you like to share?" He nudged the mug toward Brendon. It was thick and sweet and wonderful and Frank was going to die if he drank too much more of it.

Brendon snatched it up. "Just, uh, don't tell Ryan, okay?"

Jon said, "Get him to let you read some of his words at the slam and you have a deal."

"You're not supposed to negotiate with a man of G-d," Brendon said.

"Since when?" Jon asked.

"Oh, what _ever_ ," Brendon huffed, and sat down with his hot chocolate, clearly not run off in his defeat. Frank could totally sympathize.

 

*

In the vestibule of the center, Jon said, softly, "Tommy and Mikey, they think the sun rises and sets in your hands."

Frank's eyes slipped shut, the intense heat of the tiny area pressing in on him. He said, "I'm always fucking up the shit I try to fix."

Jon said, "Hey, hey," and when Frank opened his eyes, Jon was smiling at him, just a little.

 

*

Gerard called out, "Frank!" from one of the learning areas lining the hall that Frank and Jon were making their way down. Frank popped his head in and asked, "Hey. When'd you get here?"

"Half an hour ago. When'd _you_ get here?"

Frank shrugged. "While ago. Couldn't look at the computer any longer."

"Yeah," Gerard didn't even bother smiling at that. Instead he looked over at the guy who was perched on one of the desks in the room and said, "Spence, I want you to meet Frank, Mikey's boy."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "The one and only." He hopped off the desk and came over to shake Frank's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. We were beginning to think Mikey was ashamed of us." His look was a little bit searching.

Frank was confused for a second before it occurred to him that it was possible he had never given Mikey any reason to believe he was ready to meet all these people. With the exception of meetings with Gabe and his mom and going to work, Frank hadn't been engaging in social activities that weren't Mikey-centric since he'd gotten out. He said, "Mikey would die defending the honor of this place and everyone in it."

"Good thing we don't tell him much of what goes on around here, then," Spencer said. Frank laughed. Spencer asked, "You met _my_ boy?"

"Brian?" Frank checked, just in case Spencer had code slang and was actually talking about Ryan. Spencer nodded, Frank said, "I think he's the only person I'm missing."

"Yeah, he can be a hard one to pin down." Spencer looked decidedly mischievous upon saying that.

"Save it for the bedroom, Smith," Jon said in what would have been a stern tone if he hadn't been smirking.

"You know you wanna watch, Walker. Add Matt in, all that ink--"

Jon plastered his hand over Spencer's mouth and barely even flinched when Spencer clearly bit down. Frank wondered if Jon even had any nerves left in that part of his hand. Spencer then kept talking. Frank thought he might have heard his name mentioned, but he really didn't want to know. Mikey would keep him safe, he knew that much, and that was all he really needed to be sure of.

They made a turn down a hall--the center was nicely laid out, they'd been walking for a bit and Frank didn't feel at all lost, which was good, he hated feeling like he couldn't get himself out of places--and Spencer peeled Jon's hand back to call, "Schechter, we brought you a present."

"Frank is not a present," Gerard said, quietly, but with a stress to it.

Spencer winced. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Frank told him, and put a hand to Gerard's back the way Bob sometimes did when he wanted to settle him. Gerard scowled but quieted. Frank rubbed his knuckles right over Gerard's hip. Gerard gasped and jumped away, giggling. Frank smiled. His work here was done.

"Evil," Gerard complained, but he was still giggling.

A guy that Frank recognized from his ink came out into the hall and said, "You brought me an evil present, Spencer Smith?"

Frank said, "Hi, I'm Frank."

Brian shook the hand that Frank had stuck out. "Brian. That explains why Ryan just came up with about three new ideas for Valentine's Day."

"Jesus, it's less than a week off," Spencer said. "Also, I told him--"

"I told him the budget wasn't changing and that he'd have to run anything by you, because the educational programs were taking precedent this month," Brian soothed.

"You do know how to sweet-talk a boy," Spencer said, rolling his eyes, but he looked pleased.

"Um. Except--"

Spencer glared. "Except _what_?"

"Ryan asked if that meant he could divert some of the funds from the Cultural Education Fund into the Back to School fund and he said something about maraschino cherries and Mikey totally said, 'Please, Brian' and--"

"And we would all bend over and take it for Mikey fucking Way." Spencer sighed. "How much is he diverting?"

"I told him one drum, that was it." Brian glanced over at Frank. "Sorry, we're probably making a great impression for ourselves."

Frank smiled. "I fucking love maraschino cherries."

 

*

Mikey found Frank while he was making an argument for using an entire Black History month to focus on local heroes, having the kids nominate someone they wanted to see talk or have the center honor. Spencer clearly liked the idea, but he was worried about rousing the kids to participate. Frank was pretty sure Spencer could do anything he wanted given enough motivation. He'd have to talk to Brian about what motivated Spencer Smith.

Mikey draped himself over Frank's back, kissing at the vertebrae in his neck. Frank couldn't even help the grin that blossomed over his face. Mikey asked, "Have to work tonight?"

"Mm, but I'll make you dinner if you come."

Spencer said, "It was nice meeting you, Mikey's Frank," and slipped from the room.

"Mine," Mikey said happily.

"So they tell me." Frank didn't mind being told.

"You like them?" Mikey asked, clearly somewhat nervous at putting forth the question.

But Frank had known the answer to that question before he had ever met these people. "They're good people."

"But do you _like_ them?"

Frank thought about how he hadn't felt trapped or oppressed or just endlessly tired once all afternoon. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."


End file.
